


Nettles

by KoreArabin



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Gags, Knives, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-12 18:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoreArabin/pseuds/KoreArabin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No, I’m not letting you up, Gisborne.  I have you exactly where I want you and, judging from that bulge in your breeches, I'd say you’re rather enjoying being there.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Wonderful things, nettles. So many uses. Much does all sorts of things with them – makes medicines and salves and even cooks them. Not my favourite though, to eat. Too slimy. Rather like you, Gisborne.”

“Haha, very funny Locksley. Now untie me this bloody minute or you’ll not like the consequences.”

“Consequences, Gisborne? And what might those be, with you tied to a tree - _again_ \- and me standing here free to laugh at you?”

“Fuck you, Hood. Untie me _now_!”

“No, I don’t think so, Gisborne. Here, let’s put your gag back in – there – and refasten the blindfold – and I think you can hang around there a little longer to stew and reflect on being outsmarted _yet again_ , and I’ll have a think about what I’m going to do with you. Or rather, _to_ you. I'll be right back.”

oOo

Gisborne tries the ropes for the umpteenth time, but he’s been tied securely. Damn these bloody forest dwellers and their sodding knot tying proficiency. Deprived of his sight, all of the little sounds of the forest seem much louder, and somehow more menacing, but he’s damned if he’s going to allow any outward show of unease. For all he knows, Hood could be sitting mere feet way from him, having a good laugh at his captive tied shivering to one of the forest oaks.

In fact, Robin is sitting contemplating in the warm spring sunshine, absentmindedly rubbing with a dock leaf at a long nettle sting on his wrist. The nettles are particularly abundant his year, hardly surprising given the mild spring weather they’ve been having. 

Actually, thinking of nettles has given him a rather interesting idea for a way to chasten Gisborne without inflicting any permanent damage on the man, and also an excuse to get him wriggling that rather delectable arse of his once again. Robin’s mouth waters at the thought.

oOo

Gisborne turns his head slightly – did he just hear a twig snapping? He stills, almost holding his breath, listening intently. Yes! Surely there is someone there? He starts violently as his gag is removed abruptly and the sharp tip of a knife is pressed to the side of his neck, just below his ear and behind his jaw. 

“Don’t do anything foolish, Gisborne. I don’t want to slice your neck, but if you try anything I won’t have a choice.”

_Locksley_. 

“Sneaking up on people again, Hood? If you weren't such a creeping coward you’d stand and fight me properly, hand to hand, and then we’d see which of us is the better man.”

Robin laughs. “Losing your marbles are you, Gisborne? Getting a bit forgetful? We do that hand to hand stuff virtually every time we meet, remember, and you _always_ come off worse. Refresh my memory - how exactly did you end up tied to a tree - _again_ \- today?”

Gisborne merely growls in response, but doesn’t attempt to struggle as Robin frees him from the tree, leaving his wrists roped securely together. Pulling another length of rope between his hands, he leads Gisborne over to the secluded clearing he’s prepared for the afternoon’s fun.

Positioning Gisborne in the centre of the clearing, he pushes gently at his shoulders. “I want you to lie down for me, Gisborne. Come on, on the ground now.”

“You must be fucking joking, Locksley. What are you thinking of?”

“No joke, _Guy_. Your choice; do as I say and lie down, or I’ll put you down by force, and if that involves you breaking an ankle or losing a tooth or two, so be it.”

Gisborne hesitates, but decides that this is a battle he doesn’t need to fight, and so sinks silently to the ground, sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands in his lap.

“On your back. Arms above your head.” 

Almost before Gisborne’s had an opportunity to process the command, Robin is on him, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the ground. Gisborne struggles hard, but Robin has the advantage of being on top and able to see, and Gisborne’s arms are soon bound securely above his head to the stake buried deep into the forest floor.

Gisborne tries to flail and kick with his legs, but Robin simply straddles his thighs and pins them, looping more rope around each of Gisborne’s ankles, then pulling hard and tying first one, and then the other, to the remaining two stakes set wide apart at his feet.

Panting, Robin stands and surveys his handiwork; Gisborne bound, on his back, legs spread wide, chest heaving and body taut as he struggles futilely against the ropes holding him splayed out on the ground.

“What the fuck are you playing at, Locksley? Let me up, you fucking pervert!”

Robin scoots over to sit astride Gisborne’s chest, removing the blindfold with a flick of the tip of the knife. 

“No, I’m not letting you up, Gisborne. I have you exactly where I want you and, judging from that bulge in your breeches, I'd say you’re rather enjoying being there.”


	2. Chapter 2

Gisborne flushes as Robin reaches down behind him and rubs his crotch. Gisborne’s cock is nearly hard, and twitching in its leather prison. 

“Yeah, Gisborne. You’re enjoying this alright. Come on, give us a kiss.”

Gisborne growls, in embarrassment as much as anger. “Fuck _OFF_ , Locksley!” 

“Suit yourself.”

Taking the knife, Robin cuts a straight vertical line down through Gisborne’s outer leathers, before slicing through his undershirt and peeling the layers of material back to expose his chest and muscled stomach, which glow with perspiration in the warm spring sunlight.

“Mmmmmm. You're so smooth; almost like a woman.” 

Robin bends down to lick at one rosy nipple whilst squeezing the other between his thumb and forefinger, provoking a couple of breathy gasps from Gisborne and then a drawn out moan as he bites at the nipple in his mouth.

Robin revels in tormenting his captive’s nipples, relishing the moans and gasps of pain-fuelled arousal, pausing every so often to rub Gisborne’s straining cock through the leather of his breeches, eliciting further groans and muffled curses as Gisborne twists helplessly in his restraints.

At last, when Gisborne's moans are turning frantic and his nipples teased into dark pink, swollen, nubs, and Robin is beginning to wonder if Gisborne is going to climax from nipple stimulation alone, he shifts down Gisborne's body to kneel between his spread thighs. He bends and licks a long, wet, stripe up over the outline of Gisborne’s cock, his saliva gleaming on the straining leather.

"Christ, Locksley, don't torment me like this." Gisborne's voice is hoarse, as writhes in pleasurable pain, or painful pleasure; he is no longer certain that there is a difference. 

"Finish me - you know that's what you want, to humiliate me, make me come in my breeches like a young lad - so just do it."

Robin laughs, genuinely amused. "You think I'm going to make this that easy on you, Gisborne? No, I intend to have some fun with you before you get anywhere near being allowed to come - and I _mean_ allowed - you'll come when I decide to let you, and not before."

Robin takes his knife again and makes quick work of slicing through the lacings of Gisborne's breeches. Gisborne hisses and threatens and struggles, but he's bound far too securely to prevent Robin pulling them down to just below his hips, freeing his erect cock and balls to the warm spring air.

"You bastard, Locksley. Fucking _get off_ of me!"

"Still not wearing underwear, Gisborne? I thought you might have learnt your lesson after the dungeon, but I see you're still a mucky bastard. Look at the state of the inside of these breeches."

Gisborne flushes. The leather is streaked with dried sweat and fresh pre-ejaculate and even from where he's lying he can smell his natural scent of male musk and arousal. Robin dips down again and licks another wide, wet, stripe along the length of his cock.

"You smell and taste like fucking, Gisborne. Come on, then, let's get this on."


	3. Chapter 3

Robin smiles to himself. This is just too fucking good. He's being honest when he says he finds Gisborne attractive; Gisborne _is_ damned attractive - aggression and muscle and testosterone-fuelled masculinity all rolled up into one snarling, gleaming, tight leather package. If he's honest with himself, he's never really understood why Marian's always favoured him, of the two of them, when it comes to looks. He always feels a little squirrelly and runty beside the imposing Gisborne but, then again, so does everyone else.

He runs the very tip of his fingernail teasingly lightly over Gisborne's balls, concentrating on the sensitive septum, and lazily moving backwards to his perineum. Gisborne lies back, tense, his eyes tightly closed, breathing harshly through his clenched teeth. When Robin's fingers move even further back, to tickle and stroke at his anus, he hisses and struggles again.

"So sensitive, Gisborne, and so very vocal. Well, it's nice to be appreciated. However, I have something for you that'll make you even more sensitive. In fact, I'll wager that you'll be begging me to put you out of your misery and fuck you stupid, once I've acquainted you with it."

So saying, Robin stands and steps away from his captive. Gisborne struggles and twists violently, trying to see where Robin's going.

"Locksley! You can't leave me like this, in the middle of nowhere! Come back!"

Robin chuckles. "Calm down, Gizzy. I'm not leaving you. Even _I'm_ not such a bastard I'd leave you tied in the forest with your cock hanging out. Tied up, yes, as you well know, from _vast_ experience, but I have plans for that cock of yours."

With this, he moves out of Gisborne's line of sight, and Gisborne can only lie back and wait, his heart pounding wildly, vivid images of having his cock munched off by a wild boar, or being violated by a gang of half-witted peasant serfs, flashing through his mind. For all his being an infuriatingly smug little bastard, Locksley is of noble blood and would not, he is sure, subject him to anything quite so horrific.

When he returns, Robin is wearing thick leather gauntlets, and holds a bunch of dark green foliage in one hand. Gisborne stares at it, confused, until suddenly a look of comprehension dawns over his face.

"Oh, no, Locksley. No, no, no, no, no! Put them aside - no!"

Robin kneels over him, straddling his hips once again, laying the bundle down to his side and stroking Gisborne's cheek and neck. "Shush, Gisborne. You will find this painful, I'm not sorry to say, but trust me when I say I'll also make it very pleasurable for you, if you behave yourself."

"Pleasurable, Hood? Are you mad? Stinging nettles - on my cock? I don't see any pleasure for me in that."

Robin smiles again, infuriatingly. "Oh, not just on your cock, Gisborne. On your nipples, and on your balls and, if you're very good, in your arse as well. You're not going anywhere, so just lie back and moan for me."


	4. Chapter 4

Locksley was right about the moaning. Gisborne twists and struggles and moans, but to no avail. Locksley has now rubbed nettles over both of his nipples, and they are _on fire_. The only way he can describe the sensation is as if a thousand tiny, _miniscule_ , needle tips were being pressed into the sensitive nubs all at once; painful, yes, but teasing, making him want to tear his wrists free and squeeze his nipples until they bleed, or soak his fingertips with saliva and smear the wetness all over his chest. 

Or to beg Locksley to lick them - to suckle him sloppily, _filthily_ , whilst he writhes and begs beneath him.

_What the fuck is wrong with you, Gisborne? The bastard outlaw has used a painful forest poison on your nipples, and you're contemplating begging him to suck them?_

Gisborne groans and struggles again as Robin moves down his body, straddling his thighs and wrapping a further couple of nettle strands around his scrotum. This time, Gisborne is unable to restrict himself to moans, but shouts and begs. 

"Anything in my power, Locksley, you can have anything, just take them off, please!"

Robin's grin in response is one of sheer sadistic enjoyment. "Begging so soon, Gisborne? And we've only explored the less sensitive bits so far. Who knows what you'll be saying when I play with your arsehole and cockhead?"

He knows exactly what he's doing. Twisting a fresh, particularly virulent looking tendril around his leather-covered index finger, he begins to stroke at Gisborne's anus, watching in fascination as the pale pink pucker begins to turn an angry, blotchy, red.

"Locksley! Please!"

Ignoring Gisborne's pleas, Robin spits on the end of his finger and begins to push slowly into Gisborne's hole, allowing the muscle to relax as far as possible, before spitting again to ease the passage of his nettle-covered finger past the stuttering, clenching, sphincter.

Pulling out, he winds another fresh green length of nettle around his middle finger, and begins to press both back up inside Gisborne's defenceless, splayed out, arse.

Gisborne's reaction is as unexpected as it is exciting; for a man who has spent his entire life squiring for knights, or fighting _as_ a knight, and who has endured hardship and injury, he is apparently unable to cope with being penetrated in this way.

His moans, and cries, and pleas, are so vehement that Robin, if he did not know that the nettles' effects were so very mild and short-lived in reality, might have thought Gisborne genuinely tortured.

"For a knight, _Sir Guy_ , you are behaving like an utter girl." Carefully, Robin slips the gauntlet from his hand, leaving the two nettle-covered fingers buried in Gisborne's arse.

Using his left hand, he picks up a short tendril and, eyes locked on Gisborne's, very deliberately lays it over the tip of Gisborne's cock.

"Arghhhhhhhhhhhh! No, Locksley - take it off, pleeeease!"

Gisborne bucks and shouts as the sensitive skin around the slit begins to blister. "Pleeeeeeeeeeease!"

Robin stands over him, merriment suddenly giving way to solemnity. "No, Gisborne, you'll suffer. Not much - you're making a huge fuss over something pretty trivial, in the great scheme of things - but enough to give you a little bit of payback for the way you've made my people suffer, and are still making them suffer."

"Fuck you, Locksley!"

Both men are temporarily startled from their mutual enmity by a sudden flurry of snapping twigs.

"Not bein' funny, Robin, but what the fuck's goin' on here?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Allan?" Both Robin and Gisborne speak at the same time, as Allan looks on in stunned silence.

Robin shrugs. "Just teaching our dear _Lord_ Gisborne a lesson - a lesson of the forest. He's been begging me, in a most un-chivalrous way, for mercy. Come on, Allan, no doubt you'll soon have him begging you, too."

"Get here now, turncoat, come here and help me. You know your reward at my hands will be much more than Hood's pitiful munificence."

Allan looks to Robin, confused. "Not bein' funny, but I've never seen his munificence."

Robin sniggers. "Not really the time to be having a 'my one's bigger than yours' contest now, is it, Gisborne? Come on, Allan, are you going to join in?"

Allan nods, only just suppressing his mirth. "Well, this is a turn up for the books, eh, Gisborne? I'm going to enjoy this - you was a right bastard to me sometimes when I was working for you."

Gisborne grimaces. "I treated you no worse than you deserved, you sneaking little turncoat."

Allan looks at Robin. "So what d'ya want me to do?"

"Got your gloves? Good. I think those nettles in Gisborne's arse will be losing a bit of their potency by now - let's replace them with some nice fresh ones. And this one," he holds up another generously leafed tendril, "is going around his cock."

Before long, Gisborne is a struggling, moaning, pleading mess, his chest, scrotum and between his legs stained the vivid blotchy red of nettle rash. "Please, please, Locksley. Please take them off - pleeeeeease!"

"I'll do even better than that, Gisborne." Robin holds up a handful of large dock leaves and Gisborne's eyes widen. "But you have to do something for us."

"Anything. Anything you want, just - put one on my cock, please!"

"Allan - free one of his hands." He holds one of the dock leaves out to Gisborne, who grabs it, wrapping it around his cock and rubbing.

"Ohhhhhhh God. You utter bastard, Locksley."

"Ha! That's not a very nice way to address someone who's just taken pity on your poor, red, throbbing, cock now, is it, Gizzy? Any more of that sort of lip and I'll be leaving you here, smothered in nettles, for the Sheriff's soldiers to find."

Gisborne sighs, knowing when he's defeated. "Alright. What do you want, Hood?"

Robin grins. "I want to fuck you, Gisborne. I wanted to fuck you in the dungeons, but that would have been a bit risky - for me, that is. Here I think we'll be able to get it on in privacy, and don't you dare tell me you don't want it. Every time I get my hands on you you've got a massive hard-on in minutes."

Gisborne stares up at him, his cock twitching despite the nettle rash,and licks his lips.

"What about the Sheriff - and Marian?"

"What about them? Oh, you're worried I'll run off and tell them that you let me fuck you, is that it, Gisborne? No, I wouldn't do that even to you, Gizzy. What goes on in the forest stays in the forest."

Gisborne grins lop-sidedly, more a snarl than an expression of pleasure. "Come on then, Locksley. Let's see if you fuck as big as you talk."


	6. Chapter 6

Between them, Robin and Allan free Gisborne's other wrist from the stake in the ground, only to rope both wrists together again behind his back.

"For fuck's sake, Locksley, I've agreed to let you have me. Fucking untie me!"

"No. I don't trust you farther than I can throw you, Gisborne, so we'll keep your hands well out of the way for now. Besides, judging by what happened in the dungeons, you enjoy a bit of bondage when you're being fucked, eh?"

Robin gestures to Allan. "Free his legs and strip his breeches off."

Gisborne struggles in vain; bound, he is no match for the combined strength of Robin and Allan, and soon his leather breeches are cast to one side, and he lies panting, virtually naked apart from his ripped leather jerkin and undershirt. Robin kneels between his splayed thighs, running his nails up and down the sensitive skin, each time just stopping short of Gisborne's reddened balls and dripping, erect, cock.

Gisborne groans as Robin removes the nettle-covered gauntlet from his arse, reflexively trying to rub himself against the forest floor, before realising with horror what he must look like to to the two outlaws.

"Itchy, Gisborne?" Robin chuckles. "Never mind, I'm sure we can do something about that."

Allan settles himself back between a couple of gnarled roots at the base of one of the ancient forest oaks, unlacing his breeches and freeing his cock, which stands up stiff and red between his thighs. Smearing the pre-ejaculate leaking from the slit down over the swollen head and shaft, he spits into his hand for added lubrication and strokes himself.

Robin shuffles Gisborne backwards so that he is sitting astride Allan's hips, his back to him, and guides him so that his arse is poised above Allan's cock.

"C'mon, Gisborne. Settle yourself down on to that cock, and start riding."

Gisborne's stare is pure vitriol as he lowers himself, hissing as the tip of Allan's cock breaches his sore, swollen hole. Robin grins as Gisborne gingerly pushes himself down, grunting with exertion as Allan's thick, blunt, cock presses deeper inside him.

"Good boy, Gisborne. You're doing really well, but I want you bottoming out properly and taking Allan all the way in to you. God knows he deserves it, after all the shit you've put him through."

Gisborne gasps through gritted teeth. "Fuck you, Locksley."

"No, Gizzy, but _I'll_ be fucking _you_ , soon enough."

Gisborne groans again as he sheathes Allan's cock fully inside himself, and uses his thighs to push himself up and down, slowly, provoking a long moan from Allan. "So tight, Gisborne. Yeah, c'mon. Ride me."

Robin sits back on his heels and grins as he watches Gisborne working himself on Allan, his cheeks flushed crimson with humiliation. It's difficult for Gisborne to balance, with his arms tied behind his back, especially when Robin leans forward and tongues his nipples, soaking them in saliva as Gisborne moans and twists, as Allan begins to thrust up into him.

Unlacing his breeches, Robin fists his own cock, swollen and flushed with arousal at the tableau laid out before him. Smearing himself with saliva and pre-ejaculate, he slowly pushes Gisborne back until he's leaning against Allan's chest, manoeuvring his legs around so that Robin can press the head of his own cock against Gisborne's stretched opening.

"No, no! Christ, Locksley, you'll kill me! I can't take you both."

"You can, Gisborne, and you will. This is going to happen, so just try to relax."

Gisborne tries to struggle, but Allan locks his arms around Gisborne's biceps and he's held firm, impaled on Allan's cock and pressed between Robin and Allan's bodies.

"No escape, Gisborne. You're going to be fucked by both of us, and there is nothing at all that you can do to prevent it."


	7. Chapter 7

Spitting again into his palm and smearing it over his cock, Robin presses harder against Gisborne's arse, gasping as his tip breaches the stretched muscle, and begins to push up into the man held captive below him. Gisborne hisses, and tries again to twist away, but his struggles only serve to allow Robin to penetrate him more deeply.

Gisborne throws his head back, eyes closed, but mouth open, breathing harshly. There's pain in being so very stretched out, but there's also the perverse pleasure of being so totally helpless and so totally dominated, and so utterly filled with hot, hard, cock.

Watching Gisborne becoming so completely undone before his eyes, and his mouth, so often twisted into a cruel or mocking smirk, open and panting in arousal, Robin suddenly needs to _kiss_ Gisborne - to plunder; to hear and feel him unable to prevent himself moaning breathlessly against his own mouth, and to possess the other man totally.

Leaning forward, he tentatively touches his mouth to Gisborne's, whose eyes snap open and lock with his, crystal blue on crystal green-blue. 

"Locksley?" Robin presses forward more forcefully, and Gisborne surrenders to him, moaning low in his throat as Robin explores him with his tongue, then moaning louder as Allan leans forward to suck and bite at his exposed throat. Robin bites at Gisborne's lower lip, tasting blood, _marking_ him, before breaking off to kiss Allan, who has released his grip on Gisborne's arms and is now rolling Gisborne's nipples slowly and teasingly between his thumbs and forefingers.

Gisborne groans as he licks the droplet of blood from his lips, then grinds himself down on to the two cocks stretching him out, their combined thickness pressing up inside him against that spot that makes him want to shout out loud in pleasure. Robin and Allan rut up hard into him and against each other, the friction of their cocks in Gisborne's tight, searing heat bringing them closer and closer to climax.

Robin leans down to bite and suck at Gisborne's nipples, swollen and red not only from the nettles, but from Allan's playing with them. Gisborne tips his head back and Allan plunders his mouth, almost choking him with his tongue as Gisborne moans and rolls his hips again and again against that delicious internal friction.

"Do you want to come, Gisborne? Do you want me to fist your cock?" Robin wraps his hand around Gisborne's length, but too loosely to give him the friction he needs, thumbing the leaking slit as Gisborne hisses in frustration.

"Ohhhhhh. Please, Robin, please. Let me come."

"Very well, _Guy_ , so you shall."

The urgency of their thrusts increasing, Robin and Allan pant nearer to climax as Gisborne moans in pleasure as he is stimulated simultaneously both internally and externally, his cock wrapped tightly and thrusting hard into Robin's fist. 

His howl of ecstasy as the stimulation pushes him over into orgasm echoes around the clearing, Robin and Allan following very soon afterwards, crying out at the sensation of their combined ejaculations utterly filling Gisborne, and flushing back to wash in red blood heat over the tips of their cocks.

Robin is slumped forward, eyes closed, his forehead resting on Gisborne's chest, whilst Gisborne's head nestles in the crook of Allan's neck, his bound wrists twisted against Allan's stomach.

Robin is gradually brought back to full consciousness by Gisborne speaking hoarse and low. "Locksley. Let me go. _Locksley_."

He pulls out, wincing at the drag of Gisborne's muscle on his spent cock, Gisborne's loud hiss suggesting that he is even sorer, and stands, helping Gisborne up to his knees. Together, Robin and Allan get Gisborne dressed and as presentable as they can - a difficult task, given his upper garments are ripped through and his breeches lack any lacings.

"Gisborne. Make your way straight back to Nottingham. We'll not give you your sword now, but'll leave it for you at the crossroads by the Great Oak. I guarantee that no-one will meddle with you on your way back."

"So, Locksley, this appears to be becoming a habit with you. Developing something for me, are you?" Gisborne smirks, attempting to look superior and disdainful, even though his dishevelled appearance doesn't quite allow him to carry it off.

"I told you, Gisborne. What goes on in the forest, stays in the forest. Unless, of course, you start shooting your mouth off, but somehow I don't think you'll want anyone getting wind of how you begged for it again today."

Gisborne refuses to drop his gaze. "Until next time, then, Locksley. And then it won't go so well for you, for all your smugness."

"We'll see, Gisborne. Now, get you gone." With a sharp stroke of his bow to Gisborne's arse, the two outlaws vanish back into the depths of Sherwood, leaving Gisborne to stumble back to Nottingham and, no doubt, the Sheriff's wrath.


End file.
